Sweatshirt

A 'meh' exercise for flash fiction based on Michael Oppenheimer's "The Paring Knife"

I found that sweatshirt in the corner of my closet. Wrinkled like school notes from a past semester; balled up and forgotten. Cool on my hand because it had been so long since it had warmed a body. Since that time I invited you over for dinner.

It was the first time we had a date, the first time I tried cooking my aunt’s secret chili. You said it wasn'thalf bad, but never having tried it before, I guess you couldn't have known. It really wasn't half bad.

Then it was late and cold and we insisted that the night would go on. Sharing our feelings for the first time, hearing jokes for the first time.

“It’s chilly,” you said.

“Yes there is still more chili.”

“I’m chilly.”

“I’ll bring you a sweatshirt.”

The only one I had was this big yellow sack of heavy, worn cloth �" an ocean of mustard yellow with inviting folds like waves. You dove right in, swimming in it, nearly drowning, laughing. And then you said, “I think I’ll stay the night.”

You leapt out of that sweatshirt like a swimmer comes out of cold water, tossing it in the corner of my closet. It was the first time I saw you naked, the first time we made love. You weren't chilly anymore and it was the last time I needed that sweatshirt. We keep each other warm.

Author's Note

It's really just a short exercise but I was like, "what the hell?"

Reviews

[Cody]

Could you give me the details of this exercise? I love to try it!
This piece was so great! Such emotion!
Just proofread it. There were some spots that could have been fixed grammatically, but I'll leave that to you because I don't know what your intention was.

[Ross Brooks]

The exercise was to read Michael Oppenheimer’s “The Paring Knife” and attempt to mimic it using some other object/story/setting. Thank you for the critique by the way!